Return
by Kanadajin
Summary: Fred woke up with a pain in her side and aching limbs. It was dark and she could smell blood, gore and ashes all around her, covering her in grime. !chapter 6 up!
1. return

Fred woke up with a pain in her side and aching limbs.

It was dark and she could smell blood, gore and ashes all around her, covering her in grime. Where was she?

After awhile, she realized that the weight on her abdomen was a body – someone was draped across her. Fred squealed softly and managed to wiggle out from under the deadweight.

She was in an alley, and the first dim rays of light were peaking out from behind the metropolis skyline. It was breathtaking, the dusty red sky, the shimmering glass buildings, the dragon soaring and spiraling around the city spires…

Dragon?

Fred quickly looked around her, more specifically, at the bodies strewn through the alley around her. Demons, for the most part, but there were two things that caught her eye – and stole her breath away.

Pinned against a wire fence was Gunn – several stakes were protruding from his chest and a deep gash ran down his side. He was dead. He had been for quite awhile, her senses told her, by the way his blood-soaked clothes had dried and cracked.

Tears streamed down her face as she limped over to the fallen warrior, pulling him off the fence and lying him respectfully down on the pavement. She paused for a moment of prayer as she rested a trembling hand over his face, closing his clouded eyes.

Then she turned back to the other corpse that had caught her eye.

It was the black leather clad body that had been draped protectively over hers.

Spike.

More tears trickled down her face as she rolled the vampire champion over onto his back and gazed at his drawn and pale face.

Of course there was no heartbeat or any other sign of life – why should there be, he'd been dead for over one hundred years after all… but something told her that he couldn't be gone. Maybe it was just denial, but she couldn't stop thinking it.

'If he were really gone – he would have dusted, wouldn't he?'

Shaking the bleached vampire gently, Fred called his name.

It was a long time before she stopped, and it was only because she felt the brightening light of morning on her face and small tendrils of smoke started rising from Spike's prone body.

Dragging him away from the fatal sunlight, Fred found an unlocked door into one of the empty buildings bordering the alley and shoved him in.

Whatever had happened, she thought suddenly, Angel is probably out there… and Wesley. Fred dragged Spike to a corner where sunlight shouldn't reach him and where anything bad shouldn't find him, she went out in search for her friends.


	2. awakening

As the sunlight fell upon the corpses strewn across the alley, many burst into flame and shattered into dust, leaving little poufs of smoke and ash floating through the air like something from the land before time. As Fred watched one mutilated demon burst into flame, she felt a strange swelling of pride and from somewhere a dim memory of pulling its spine out and using it to strangle another demon floated into her thoughts.

She shuddered and continued searching for any signs of her friends.

After countless hours the sun was now full in the sky and Fred gave up any hope of finding Angel in some form of not-completely-deadness. But she searched for Wesley.

Among the demon corpses and the rubble of a few destroyed buildings she found the bodies of civilians, police, and some young women that she could only assume had once been slayers. Fred grieved.

Dusk was soon to fall and she hadn't found Wesley.

Returning to the building she had hid Spike, Fred trudged through the bloody mud that was all that was left of the army that had been there before.

What army?

Fred shook her head and rubbed her eyes in confusement.

What had happened to her?

Spike was still there when she managed to limp back to the dusty warehouse. He was just as she had left him, only now he seemed to be lightly breathing, something that had never ceased to amaze her. Despite the fact that he had been undead almost as long as Angel, he still breathed in his sleep… and often when he was awake, as well.

Even when he had been a ghost he breathed, though it was as unnecessary as it was now.

Feeling a wave of exhaustion surge over her, Fred curled up into a tight ball on the floor next to the unconscious vampire, resting her head lightly on his chest, and fell asleep.

* * *

Spike groaned and dared to crank an eyelid open.

It was dark.

He frowned and opened his other eye.

It shouldn't still be dark.

He sniffed and could smell the repulsive stench of demon gore and ash all around him… and another scent. Human.

"Bloody hell!"

There was a woman sleeping against him.

Quickly doing a mental check to see that all of his parts were attached and he was fully clothed, the blonde vampire rolled away from the strange woman next to him.

She was very still, her face hidden by long brown hair.

Tentatively, with a shaking hand, Spike brushed the hazel locks out of the way and breathed, "Illyria?"

Slowly an eye opened and came to rest on his face.

"Spike?"

Spike looked at the huddled form in disbelief, "Oh god!"

He knew her voice, he heard the fear and uncertainty, damn, and he could even smell it.

Blue had smelled just like that, like blueberries and water, but this… she smelled like country grass and that lemony disinfectant wolfram and hart used to clean the labs.

"Fred?"

* * *

sorry the chapters are so short, but once again it is 1:34am and here I am, writting three different stories at the same time and thinking 'hmmm... sleep would be nice.' So yeah! you'll just have to take it all in stride and wait up.  
toodles 


	3. Hope

_Spike looked at the huddled form in disbelief, "Oh god!"_

_He knew her voice, he heard the fear and uncertainty, damn, and he could even smell it._

_Blue had smelled just like that, like blueberries and water, but this… she smelled like country grass and that lemony disinfectant wolfram and hart used to clean the labs._

"_Fred?"_

"Spike, what the hell is going on?"

The bleached demon made a soothing sound in the back of his throat and helped his trembling friend to sit up. "Shhh, it's alright, luv."

After a moment of tense quivers and jerky movements Spike enveloped Fred in his arms and held her as tears came and went. Nothing was making sense to her, it was as if the world had changed – she had changed, and all she could do was cry. She relaxed, eventually, into Spike's arms and leaned her head against his chest… and in doing so nearly screamed.

"Spike – what? How?"

They drew apart as Fred looked in horror at Spike.

"What is it, luv? What's the matter?"

"A heartbeat," she gasped accusingly, pointing at his chest. "I heard a heartbeat!"

Spike's face skewed up in confusion and he went still, as though to listen to see if she was right and Fred stood, shakily, to her feet.

"You're not supposed to Shanshu – that's for Angel! Angel's supposed to get to be human, why… oh God! If you Shanshu'd then there's been an apocalypse, hasn't there? And if you got to Shanshu and not Angel… Oh God…. He's dead," Fred began freaking out, torn between grief, despair, and fury.

Spike jumped to his feet and stepped towards her, about to say something, but she cut him off before he could start.

"What happened, Spike? Tell me now… where's Lorne and … a-and Wesley."

His heart was breaking for Fred, but the cockney vampire couldn't bear to tell her the terrible truth of what had happened.

"Luv… calm down! Shhh – it's okay. Don't worry," he gave her a reassuring smile that completely hid his true despair. "I'm sure they're fine – and don't have kittens just yet."

"Angel and Gunn are dead, how is it okay?"

"Wow, now – who said they were dead?"

Fred looked at Spike with disgust, "I saw Gunn's body, he's out in the alley right now."

Spike grimaced and ducked his head.

"But who says that Angel is dead?"

"You Shanshu'd, you big blonde idiot," Fred shouted. "How dense are you?"

"Well, I guess pretty dense, then eh? Maybe if you'd calm down like a good bird you'd listen to me when I'm telling you this… I didn't go all humany."

Fred stopped dead.

"What?"

"See," grinning, Spike morphed into his demon face and back. "Still dead."

"Oh… then why did I hear a heart beat?"

Spike smiled sadly and spread his arms out open to catch a hug from the confused, former dearly departed scientist. She hesitantly accepted his embrace, then melted into it against his chest. Again she could her the heartbeat, but this time Spike was prepared.

"Do you hear that, sweets?"

Fred nodded, though not quite understanding what was happening.

Spike smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"That's your heart. You can hear it beating strong from within… it's you."

Slowly Fred began to cry again, this time not out of grief, confusement or sorrow, but for that wonderful joy that comes when someone realizes that there is still one thing left in the world for them.

Hope.

* * *

Sorry – I know it was really, really short, but I'm in the middle of a few essays, midterms, and final exams. 


	4. descent

One image continued to play itself over and over in Spike's mind.

It was driving him mad, but he couldn't tell Fred.

Not that it wasn't something she should be told, but she looked so peaceful in her sleep that he dared not disturb her. Last time he did that a little bit of Ilyria had come out, and he really didn't want to chance bringing back old blue. Not only, he felt, would the demon God be supremely pissed off, but he suspected that it wouldn't allow Fred to continue existing… if it really was her at all.  
This was another thought that was playing through his one-hundred and something year old brain – Ilyria had been able to emulate Fred before, what if this was just some manifestation of the demon? Could this be a ploy to gain his trust, to deceive him, or maybe the demon had reverted to her personality to protect itself somehow? I might be hiding… these were fairly deep and philosophical-psychological stuff and nonsense that Angel and his little band of followers seemed better equipped to look into.

Unfortunately, it appeared that he and Fred were the only ones left.

And the image came back to haunt him – the pain accompanying it made his head spin and agonizingly empty stomach reel.

He definitely needed a drink.

* * *

An inhuman shriek ripped the air in half, bursting the aching silence of the darkness, followed by cruel, hysterical laughter. The sound of a whip rang out and another cry was torn loose of the chained and bleeding captive surrounded by his pitiless tormentors.

Gasping for air, he struggled to remain upright, to defy his captors, to keep his dignity.

They could make him scream, and they could make him bleed, but they could never make him do what they wanted him to do. He wouldn't. He couldn't. But they didn't believe that – they knew that every being has their limit, everything has its price, and it's only a matter of being patient and let the beast within devour.

He would break, he would mewl, and he would do their bidding.

The demons around him were just getting started, and their entertainment would prove to be just that – entertaining.

Very good entertainment.

* * *

She could hear Spike talking to himself. Well, not really talking, more like muttering and strange sobbing sounds. It was pitiful that he should show such weakness.

Fred stopped – had she just thought that? How could she think such a thing – showing grief for the loss of Charles and possibly everyone else… how was that a weakness?

It was just this amnesia that was messing with her head.  
She needed to find out what had happened to her – with that Ilyria virus that had taken hold of her – and to Wesley.

Her heart broke remembering how wretched and forlorn he had looked as she lay in that hospital bed slowly dying, watching her deteriorate into that thing. He had promised her that he would bring her back, that he would find her and be with her forever, in this life or the next one. She believed him.

"… Is mine, I want it – but it won't come for me… it's pointless… see?"

Fred looked over at Spike – his hands were anxiously pulling at his hair, his face hidden from her view. He was speaking nonsense still… he had mentioned once to her, in private, that he spoke to things that weren't there when he went crazy after getting his soul back. Was he wigging out again?

She smiled slightly at the phrase; it was one of Gunn's favourites.

The smile quickly turned to a sniffle of sorrow.

_'But now he is gone – it is irrelevant what his words were. It is desirous now to commit much violence to avenge him and Wesley,' _said a strange and powerful voice.

'_Avenge them… yes. No! Wesley isn't dead.'_

_'Of course he is – he died in my arms, looking upon your face.'_

_'What?'_

'_He was happy. He did not die needlessly – he killed the sorcerer. He was brave.'_

_'No, no no no no! Wesley isn't dead.'_

_'This blubbering and wailing will not avenge him nor bring him back again.'_

_'Shut up!'_

'_If you raise your voice louder someone will hear.'_

_'He can't be dead.'_

_'Or are you planning to awaken his soul with this pathetic salting? Quiet!'_

_'Shut up, you, shut up!'_

_'Why can you not accept his death,_' the voice asked softly.

_'Because I love him – not that you'd understand_.'

There was a pause, _'I believe that is not true. I felt substantial and overwhelming sorrow at his passing. He was my guide. I…enjoyed his teachings.'_

Fred gulped and lapped into silence.

The only sounds were that of creaking, rodents squeaking, and the incomprehensible muttered poetry of Spike.


	5. Sorry

Hey folks – just to let you know, updates are on their way!

I'm in the middle of finals right now, so I hope you understand why its taking awhile to finish anything right now.

Toodles and keep fighting the good fight (vs. sanity and the forces of reason)

J


	6. Paybacks a b

Chapter 5 - Payback

* * *

When she woke up Spike was gone. 

He'd found paper and a pencil somewhere and had left a note for her, telling her that he was going out to do some recon.

That voice in her head told her that he went to find out if anyone had survived.

Curling up into a ball Fred remembered Wesley's face, so worried about her – then another image, he was looking at her with such love, but such pain. She saw him gasp, she felt his blood on her, his trembling as he struggled to keep going, then the heaviness as his spirit left his body.

He was gone.

* * *

Spike came back near sunrise. 

He'd managed to find a place to get a good drink of the red stuff, and picked up a couple of tacos from a 7-11 for Fred, or Illyria, whichever it was, but she'd already flown the coop.

The night before he'd had a particularly terrible nightmare. He decided to get out of the building and do some prowling, see if he could find anyone he knew. He'd heard that Clem was in town, so he tried looking for the floppy eared demon, but didn't have any luck. Neither with the big green guy, Lorne. Not that he'd really expected to ever see Lorne again, that'd been his little secret agreement with Angel.

And there it was – he came to it.

Where was the big poof now?

Last he'd seen him he was being held down by a couple of uber-vamps.

Spike shook his blonde head, either his sire was dust in that alley or someplace much, much worse…

* * *

Fred couldn't sit still anymore, from somewhere inside her she felt she had to get up and get out of the abandoned building. She left a note for Spike that she'd gone to see if the Hyperion was still there, and to meet her there. 

On the way to the old hotel she stopped suddenly in front of a barbershop. It was just opening. She ran a hand through her hair – it still had a few tinges of blue running through it, to her dismay. Out of impulse she walked in, sat down at the chair and ordered the barber to cut her hair – short. Halle Barrie short.

* * *

Spike plunked himself down into a dusty armchair and contemplated the ceiling. It was really…ceilingish. Not that he expected it to be any different, but he was amazed at how much like a ceiling this ceiling looked like. 

'What the bloody hell am I saying?' He thought with a shake of his head, 'of course it looks like a ceiling!'

"What looks like a ceiling?"

The reclining vampire nearly jumped out of his skin, and might have had a heart attack if he hadn't have already been dead, as a young woman walked around the corner.

"What the hell…" the woman looked too familiar, "Fred?"

Fred smiled and patted her head, "like my new look?"

Spike gaped in amazement.

"Sure, luv... it's just so short!"

The now short haired Fred moved to comment when a terrible scream rippled through the empty hotel…

* * *

Angel wished he was dead... well, since technically he was dead, he wished that he'd been dusted in the battle instead of this. 

When he brought around the destruction of the Circle of the Black Thorne, he'd pissed alot of people off. Now, for the first time in centuries, the Wolf, Ram, and Hart were all in this dimension. All for the sole purpose of making Angel pay.

* * *

Sorry it's taken so long to update - and sorry that this chapter is rather slow, but I promise that as soon as I get back into the swing of things this story will get going again. 


	7. Finding the Entertainer

Spike and Fred ran up the stairs to where the scream seemed to be coming from.

Fred's mind was racing.

Who could it be?

Their footsteps were soon all that could be heard in the silence after the scream died off, Fred's heartbeat seeming to fall into rhythm with the foot falls.

'Is it Angel?' Fred wondered as she ran alongside the bleached vamp – she was so preoccupied by the questions that she did not notice nor marvel at the fact that she was keeping up to the superhuman speed of the undead.

Spike barrelled into a closed door on the fifth floor, smashing it down and crashing into the room. He shook the splinters of wood of himself as he scanned the room.

It smelled of blood.

"Look out," he called quickly as he pushed Fred, who had just entered the room, behind him.

A sulking figure crouched in the shadows before darting out the window into the night. Spike raced to the open window but even with his senses could he not see, smell, or sense any clue to where the thing had went.

Damn! Why hadn't he smelled him before?

Fred peered around the bristling vampire to look at the trembling body lying on its side facing away from them. Her eyes closed as she sniffed the air, smelling blood and that smell that could only belong to one being.

"Lorne."

The gentle green demon lay on the floor, moaning in pain, red eyes staring vacantly at the ceiling. Fred rushed to him and knelt next to the entertainer.

"Lorne?"

His eyes drifted away from the light fixture to gaze at the woman next to him.

"Sugarplum?"

Fred nodded emphatically and smiled, brushing away a tear from her eye.

"Yeah, it's me," she took his hand in hers. "What happened?"

Lorne coughed and frowned.

"He went away… I think he remembered who he was, who I was, but too late now I think…" he looked at her again, or more correctly, at her hair. "Who did that hack job?"

Spike crouched down next to Lorne's feet. He could smell something familiar; it was just hovering at the back of his mind, and enigma that he could not name.


End file.
